Excerpt
TO NEW YORK For maid and lad New York is fairy land,Delightful charms in gorgeous brilliant lure!Our youth do struggle on ambition's tour.They meet life's challenge with true heart and hand.Forgotten trails are marked with scar and wand;A blasted rock and broken twigs assureThe traveler that others fought the moor,And sailed the stormy breakers, crossed the sandTo build the city on a granite slab.They tamed the wilderness, a sturdy clan!Retracing paths recall the glory made,Lays bare the secrets of the field and lab.Such tours give hope for future life and plan.Brave men have set the torch with ax and spade.
MEET THE CHALLENGE The coddled youth, like greenhouse plantWill wilt and die in desert sand,Can never meet the storms of life,Untried and mild and soft his hands. He walks within the favored nooks,Protected there much more than those,Who meet the challenge face ahead,And struggle on to conquer foes. They learn to take the gaff and thrust,And from an inner courage gainA faith in toil and love of truth;They pray to God to ease the pain.
WINTER A glow of life shines from the leaf-stripped limbs,In sheltered nooks snowbirds are singing hymns.The sycamore shafts gleam and shine afar,Down by the river where the black oaks are.The goldenrod now droops his fuzzy head;There by my fence, leaves make a fluffy bed.They mulch my flower seed down in the loam;Beyond below the tall sedge grasses moan.Seared grass curls firmly over tender sprigs,And my rose bush there curves its brown thorned twigs.Beneath my window, tulip bulbs lay snug,Quite safe and warm in earthy winter rug.All nature resting for a springtime gain,And quiet gray tones soothe an inner pain.
DREAMING BY THE RIVER Ripples on the waterRustling in the treesWind sighing gentlyWhistling by with ease.Cow-bells tinkling distantFarmer on the lea,Cattle nibbling grassesLittle honey bee.Frosted leaves of autumnSailing down the stream.Neatest clump of willows,Oh, for some ice cream.
WHEN YOU COME HOME O happy, happy heart, that can but leapFor joy, when you return to me again;The love within grows fresh as morning glen,Awakes and lights the gloom where shadows creep.—The night will come and with it women weep.Stay, Dear, with me, for dark will come and then,It fills the soul with fear—don't go again—Black clouds will roll, when only children sleep.O Darling storms of midnight vex and threat;The gullies moan and then the goblins see!It is not wise or brave to prattle so;And Dear, if you must go, I will not fret;The sun will shine when you come home to me,Dark night is day and only mild winds blow.
CHILDREN AT THE PARK We hop and skip in timeIn the shade of the sycamore trees,Fly around like the birds and the bees. We swing and sway and climbTo the top of the strong monkey bars,Watch the boats and the Riverside cars. We swim and shout in glee,While the ships on the river sail on.How time flies and the morning is gone. We leap and prance aboutAnd we sing by the Riverside drive.Thus we play and we eat and we thrive.
THE FLEET (1945) A long line of ships,War-scarred in glory smotheredOn navy's glad day.
SPRING IS BUDDING Why is the sun ashiningAnd all the faces glad?Why are the buds aburstingAnd not, a thing is sad?I hear the sparrow twitteringHer sweet old melody.Darling the spring is buddingIn all her ecstasy.Spring and the sun are smilingTo bring the leaves and cress.Love in the heart is wakingTo give us happiness.I hear the lark awarblingHer sweet old melody....